Supposed to Be
by herald-mage-tris
Summary: Piper/Noah. Piper keeps seeing the fireworks from the boardwalk even though they're "home" and inside. Set between their excursion to the boardwalk and the Talk about Julia's mother and Piper's expectations.


This is how it's supposed to be.

The three of them, holding hands, laughing, talking. She saw how people looked at them when they walked home. They looked like a family.

They've been home from the boardwalk for thirty minutes and she doesn't know what is worrying her more: that she calls it 'home' in her head or that the fireworks haven't stopped.

The two of them put Julia to bed and every time he glances at her she can hear his words again: _"I like coming home and finding you there."_

After the light is turned off, and they sneak downstairs, he somehow manages to convince her to stay. There's no food this time since they snacked at the boardwalk (he bought her cotton candy and then stole little pieces), so when he breaks out the wine she gets a little tipsier a little quicker than normal. Which is why (probably) she lets him move the conversation to the couch. She's going on about deciding what to finish the painting on the wall at the shop with -- people on the beach or leave it pristine, when she catches a movement out of the corner of her eye. He's raised the wine bottle to his mouth and is catching the last few drips with his tongue hanging out.

He looks at her and flashes his sheepish little boy smile and she just blushes. _God._ She hasn't blushed since back when she was a virgin. He mutters something about being uncouth and "I can do that since Julia's in bed and it's not setting a bad example." He looks quite proud of himself for this logic.

She pokes him in the chest (when did he get so _close_?), "Noah, You know you'd totally set a bad example when she was awake."

His smile is back and she giggles. _Giggles_.

Then she's sitting on the couch and he's next to her. "I had fun at the boardwalk," she tells him.

"Yeah?"

She nods -- a little too emphatically and the world tilts pleasantly. She does it again, and again until everything is spinning a bit too fast and he seems to know it and reaches out to hold her head still. Everything is still for a moment, Noah's leaning in and Piper holds her breath --

"Daddy? Can I have a glass of water?"

They spring apart like they're the children and Julia is the parent catching them in the act.

"I'll get it," Piper stammers, and leaps off the couch.

Julia bounces down the stairs and beams up at her. For some reason Piper feels guilty.

Soon, Julia is settled back in bed, water on the nightstand beside her, and strict instructions to "go to sleep, because you have school tomorrow, and what kind of father would I be if I got you hooked on coffee already?"

The reply: "The good kind," makes Piper snicker and push back the guilt.

When they're back downstairs, she moves into the kitchen, taking the wine bottle and glasses with her. "You are, you know," she tosses back over her shoulder to him.

"What?"

"A good father."

He's behind her, but she can tell he's grinning. So is she.

Warm hands whisper across her waist, and she relaxes against him as his hands continue their path until he's holding her; they're swaying softly to music only he can hear. But when he starts kissing down along her neck, she imagines she can hear it too.

She turns in his arms and stands on tip toe, pulling gently at his neck.

Her lips ghost over his, gently, softly, and achingly slow. She can feel his hands clench behind her, and she starts to giggles again, but he's backed her up against the counter and her body automatically arches away from the sharp edge of the counter and into ihim/i. The giggles turn into a gasp and suddenly they're kissing frantically. His hands are everywhere and Piper is trying desperately to pull his shirt off of him and he moans. "_Anna_."

It stops her cold, and before Noah knows what's happening she's shoving past him and out the door.

Piper grabs her bike and pedals off into the night, hearing him behind her, calling the name of some other girl. Some other girl who _is_ just a college student working in a sandwich shop and who didn't move to Santa Cruz because she had "family" there.

The alcohol isn't making her horny anymore (or maybe it's the absence of Noah), it's just making her weepy. She runs into a pothole as she's trying to wipe her eyes with both hands and she tumbles to the ground, scraping her knees and palms. She's lying there, pondering the echos of fireworks in her vision when a car's blaring horn has her jumping up and out of the way just in time to miss getting run over. Her bike's not so lucky and she flips off the quickly fading taillights.

She can't bike anywhere with the front tire bent at that angle, and Noah's isn't too far away. Piper feels absolutely miserable, and the cuts on her knees are stinging and she's just now realized she's ripped her favorite pair of jeans. All she wants to do is go _home_. The bottom drops out of her stomach when she realizes just how badly she wants to be there. But wanting things too much is what got her into this mess in the first place. She kicks what she thinks is a fence but is actually a shrub and she ends up losing her balance and falling on her ass. Again.

Noah's place is calling loudly -- just down the block and around two corners. With a sigh, Piper pulls out her cell phone and dials.

"Hey, Priestly? Can you come get me?"

And when he shows up in his beat up red beast of a car with the music blaring, she has brushed herself off and pulled herself together. Or as much as she can as tipsy as she is (she refuses to say she's drunk). They drive past Noah's and she can see Julia's room aglow from her nightlight. Priestly doesn't ask what's wrong when she sniffs loudly, just hands her a napkin and awkwardly pats her shoulder.

He drops her off with strict instructions to drink two glasses of water before bed, and pulls away with a blush and a squeal of tires when she calls him sweet.

She stumbles of the stairs to her apartment and tumbles into a cold bed -- alone.

This is how it's supposed to be.

He calls the next day. At the shop again, and this time Tish is a little quicker on the uptake. "Sure," she says while gesturing wildly at Piper. "Anna's right here."

The name makes her wince and she knows Priestly notices, so she turns around and tries to shrink into the corner. "Hi, Noah."

"I keep screwing up."

"No," she starts, but he cuts her off.

"And that's fine, I just. God. This is selfish, or rude, or -- look. I just wanted to know if you're still willing to come over and stay with Julia tomorrow. I don't know what I did, but Julia didn't do anything and..."

He trails off and she can picture the expression on his face: eyes closed, nose scrunched up forehead creased as he tries to figure out how to say whatever he wants to say.

Piper doesn't give him a chance. "I'll be there. I just, freaked a little the other night."

Behind her she can _feel_ the looks she's getting, and she tries lowering her voice but there is no noise in the shop, "Don't worry about it, okay? We can talk when you get home tomorrow night."

"Maybe we should lock up the wine first."

She laughs, and soon he's laughing too. "I'll see you tomorrow, Noah."

"Tomorrow, Anna."

Just like that, the good feeling is gone, and she hangs up the phone a little harder than is necessary. Tomorrow. She'll tell him everything tomorrow.

And everything will be fine. _Fine_.

Because this is how it's supposed to be.


End file.
